Watch

"Mind yourself," his auntie had said (giving his arm a squeeze). He had made some vague promise, eyes down, trying not to openly scoff at the archaic admonishments and turns of phrase she always used. "I won't be late," he said, shutting the door behind him carefully and quietly. "I have a set a watch on your intentions," Auntie whispered to the closed door, "so mind, dear one, mind." He was driving like a maniac past a bus stop when he saw the robed (face covered? shrouded?) figure who appeared to be observing him intently. It made him uncomfortable, but he shrugged it off ... only to find the same figure (couldn't be; how could it be?) at another bus stop ten minutes away ... and then down the street from the pickup spot. As his friends packed into the car, half-drunk and shouting at passersby, the figure moved closer; it did not walk so much as simply appear 20 feet in front of where it had once been. "Guys," he said, the intimate mob about to become unruly, spoiling for trouble. "GUYS." Hands cranked the radio; voices raised in catcalls and threats. "Get out," he said quietly (surprised at himself). "I need you to get out." They couldn't hear him over the din of their own idiocy, so he turned off the car, got out, walked around, open the doors on the passenger side, and pulled them out one-by-one. "Sober up," he said (sick to his stomach). "Smarten up." The figure stayed right where it was and watched as they postured, complained, cursed him, and wandered off. It was only when he drove away (heading home) that the figure turned its attention to one of his friends, skulking down a dark alley recklessly talking trash, and heard something that (he couldn't be sure; it was behind him now) sounded like a scream.